


Love Me Like it’s Prom Night

by freakshow (oatmealcrisp)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (maybe a bit more than one year), Body Image, Cock Rings, Costume Kink, Domestic Fluff, Handcuffs, High Heels, M/M, One Year Later, Ripping Clothes, Viktor cries after, boob window, eros costume - Freeform, it's really just a lot of sexy fluff, lil bit of bondage???, long haired husbands, mentions of possible eating disorder, sexy hijinx, they live and screw happily ever after in the great canadian wilderness, viktor is a savant because ofc he is are you kidding me, yes theyre married, yuuri cries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9354995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oatmealcrisp/pseuds/freakshow
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor are retired and together they live in pure domestic bliss. Or so Viktor would try to make you believe but Yuuri has a hard time believing that sometimes because his husband is an asshole. At least it makes life interesting.(Or the one in which Yuuri does a few too many shoulder presses and his boobs bust out of the good'ol eros costume)





	1. Wanna be this fantasy all night with you

**Author's Note:**

> took a quick break from aid to write up this badboy which was originally supposed to be a hardcore smutfest but somehow devolved into body image issues and domestic fluff hurt/comfort? Whoops.  
> Sexy, sexy hijinx still ensue. Kinda wanna rewrite another chapter from Vikkys POV. Boob poppin.
> 
> not betad, thumbs up, hope y'all enjoy!

Moving, Yuuri decides, is a nightmare.

Well actually it’s not so much a decision as it is an affirmation of a preexisting rule of life. Moving is and will always be a terrible endeavor and Yuuri is at once thankful he doesn’t need to do it often, and that his husband can easily afford the services of a moving company.

But the moving company can’t actually move them until they’re ready to be moved, and that means they have to pack.

Yuuri hates packing more than he hates moving because while the process of getting stuff from point A to point B is tiring he can at least feel like he’s getting something done.

Packing is just a mess. An unorganized, painfully slow, completely boring mess.  
And now Yuuri can’t find his favourite mug.

Now does he need the one specific mug in question? No, not really, they’ve made sure to keep a few out. But does he Want his mug?

It’s blue with a black dog print pattern and a terrible pun on the side labelling Yuuri (or whoever so happens to be drinking from said mug at any one time) ‘The Dog Father’. Viktor had bought it for him, thinking it was hilarious, and Yuuri had been appropriately bashful and irritated by the awfulness of previously mentioned pun.  
It had grown on him though.

So does he Want his mug?

Well no, not really, there’s at least five different ones he could choose from but it’s a matter of principle now. He’d come this far and there was no way he was giving up now.

Viktor, who seems to regard the detestable chore of shoving their life into boxes with his typical fae ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude, watches him tear through boxes (carefully of course, Yuuri isn’t about to undo all their effort which would require him to pack Again) with an expression that says he’s concerned for Yuuri’s sanity.

Yuuri tactfully ignores this, and the bewildered whining of their three month old German Shepherd. Her name is Nutmeg and she’s adorable but he’ll always miss Makkachin, who had passed away last year from old age.She had been sixteen going on seventeen, innocent as a rose and very much loved.

But, Yuuri has digressed. 

He needs to find his mug.

If one would ask why they are moving, Yuuri would cite the well worn narrative that Viktor’s St. Petersburg bachelor pad had finally outgrown their needs, and also that there was a crack in the ceiling now that he didn’t like the looks of.

It actually had more to do with Viktor finding a new shiny thing and Yuuri was nothing if not an enabler of his husband’s whims. A terrible, terrible enabler who may not have actively encouraged, but didn’t really protest either.

It was hard not to. The older man’s energy always sweeps Yuuri into a dizzying and euphoric tornado and suddenly he finds himself doing things he’d never before even Considered.

Which was how they’d gone skydiving. And white water rafting. And rock climbing not in a gym, but on an actual mountain. All in the last four months.

(And stocks along with various other bondagy bits, some very interesting toys and slightly more public executions than was polite.  
And some really wild costumed role play, the strangest of which so far had to do with Viktor being a princess and Yuuri the wizard liberating her from her humdrum life? Don’t misunderstand, Yuuri had enjoyed it, but it was still the strangest thing he’d done to date.)

So yes. Viktor wants a new adventure and Yuuri is frankly helpless to his husband’s whims, so they are moving.  
To Canada.  
And that necessitates packing and in turn, not being able to find anything when he wants or needs it.

Yuuri finishes roughing up another box and lets loose a groan of pure disgust. Moving to Canada is seeming like a worse idea by the second.

(Why Canada? Don’t ask, Yuuri has no idea. At the least it’s an excuse to brush up on his paltry French, as that is the part they’re moving to, because reasons. And something called a poutine.)

Sitting back on his heels and scrubbing his face the man sighs, brushes his loose hair back and gives a helpless look at the many, many more boxes he’s left to go through. Yuuri pulls his shoulder length locks (he really needs to get it cut soon) into a quick ponytail, shoves the box he’d just finished plundering to the side, and shuffles forward on his knees to grab for another.

When did they get so much stuff? Yuuri has no clue but thinks that next time they should label the boxes. That would have probably made things easier.

Now as to how they had the freedom to move (and skydive and go rafting, mountain climbing and other more x-rated things), well that was an easy answer at least.  
They were both retired.

Or about as retired as a pair of thirty-somethings can be anyways, which means that Viktor does a lot of whatever he wants because he has money and investments in property and stocks, and that Yuuri designs video games in a dark, cramped studio that has a lot of yelling, deadlines, stress, and beanbag chairs.  
Also some really wild office parties but that’s neither here nor there. 

Yes, Yuuri Katsuki is thirty (30) years old as of the prior November. Viktor is thirty-four (34) and his birthdays seem to get more dramatic and soggy eyed each year. Why his husband insists he’s balding more by the year and wrinkled more by the day is just another one of Viktor’s little mysteries. The bastard still doesn’t look a day over the twenty-seven he’d been when they’d first met. 

Literally the only difference, which just so happens to be Yuuri’s favourite ‘new’ thing, is that Viktor hasn’t cut his hair in the past four years. It is now a long silky spill of starlight that hits his mid back and Yuuri has a hard time keeping his fingers out of it.

All the same the man has begun to accumulate a dizzying amount of lotions, creams, masks and peels. And the decision to grow out his hair had more to do with hiding nonexistent bald patches than giving his husband something to grab.

Apparently even walking perfection can be insecure about some things, whodathunk.

In contrast, Yuuri likes to think he’s hit the big three-oh kind of alright. Sure he’s put on more weight but most of it is muscle, 

(“Little piggy I promise you don’t need to work out at one in the morning, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Please come back to bed.”  
“You literally just called me a pig.”  
“It’s a nickname!”) 

So yes, he’s thicker about the chest and arms but it’s only by, like, 12cms or something. Yuuri would know, he’s kept track. He hopes it actually is muscle, years of yoyo dieting and bullying have left Yuuri a little confused as to what’s what in that area but he’ll never admit it.

(“Yuuri, please, this is the third time you’ve measured yourself in as many days! You’re worrying me!”  
“Viktor for the last time, I swear to God-”  
Viktor hid his measuring tape.  
And his scale.)

And maybe squinting at computer screens in dark rooms for days on end hadn’t done wonders for his eyesight so he needed a stronger prescription now. And maybe Yuuri had found his first grey hair last night. But overall, he thinks he’s gotten over the hump into the ‘prime of his life’ semi-gracefully.

(For his part, Viktor thanks whatever deity may exist for the sexiness that is Yuuri’s waist to shoulder ratio, and prays nightly that his thighs and rear stay as thick as they’d always been. Yuuri was sexy when he was chubby and Yuuri is sexy now that he’s shaped like a tiny 5’8 dorito. Some things never change.)

Straightening his glasses, Yuuri pulls himself out of his reverie and peels open another set of cardboard flaps. What he finds surprises him.

Yuuri blinks, and then smiles with fond nostalgia as he picks up the folded plastic bagged figure skating costume, rubbing a corner with his thumb. 

“I didn’t even know we still had this…” He muttered softly to himself and tilts it, admiring the way the crystals peppered about the shoulder glimmer. 

The eros costume still looks amazing after all these years. It’s a bit frayed, sure, but it was also older than Makkachin had been now, and has seen a lot of use. It’s allowed to look a bit aged.

“Yuuri? Is everything alright in there my little Katsudon?”

Viktor sounds a little nervous and Yuuri looks over his shoulder just in time to see the man’s silver head pop around the bedroom doorway, loose hair swaying.

“Oh, yeah, no everything’s fine. I just got a little distracted.” Yuuri quirks a smile his husband’s way and the man utters a dramatic sigh of relief, clutching his chest.

“Ah good. I’d worried you’d had an aneurysm or something, everything got all quiet.”

“If No One’s Queen didn’t give me an aneurysm I think I’m safe from a few boxes.”

The mess that was that particular open world game still gave him nightmares. They’d gone into it with such high hopes but then-  
Well.  
Two years after the release and there were still being articles written about it and how it had deceived the gamer community and was the embarrassment the dev company.

Yuuri had cried. 

A lot.

Dryly, Viktor snorted, no doubt thinking along very similar lines. “Fair enough.”

The man slipped through the entryway and plodded over to him with all the grace that had netted him a ridiculous collection of gold medals. Yuuri watched Viktor approach, and hoped his face didn’t look as besotted and gooey as he felt.

“What do you have there?” Silver hair swayed as Viktor peered over his shoulder, looming over Yuuri’s kneeling form easily.  
“The old eros costume. I didn’t even know we still had this.” Yuuri gave his husband a smile and turned back to said outfit, feeling impossibly fond. “It sure brings back a lot of memories, doesn’t it?”

“It really does,” Viktor agreed in a soft tone, shifting to kneel beside him. “I’d completely forgotten we had it myself. Funny, seeing as how it had been packed away.”

Yuuri vaguely remembered tearing out the nooks and crannies of the walk-in closet, thoughtless, bored, and inconceivably irritated that he’d been left to handle said mess while Viktor took Nutmeg for a very, very long walk.

“Hm. Yeah. Funny how that works.” Yuuri gave the man in question a droll look, eyebrow quirked. 

Viktor had the grace to look sheepish as he chuckled, coughed and cleared his throat.

“You were stunning in it, my dear.”

Yuuri snorted. “Nice recovery.”

“Hm.” The platinum haired man’s expression became thoughtful as he reached out to take the bag. “No, you really were, Yuuri. I’d fallen head over heels for you at the banquet but when I saw you wear this for the first time…”

Yuuri feels himself flush and doesn’t know what to say, not really. Without anything to distract his hands with he fidgets and clasps them atop his knees, swallowing.

“I bet you still would!”

Wait, what.

“No, I know for a fact that you would look just as, if not more, gorgeous!” Viktor looks like he’s just thought of a wonderful idea, eyes asparkle and mouth doing The Thing that reminds Yuuri of American adverts circa 1950.

Phichit said it was like a great big heart emoji.

Yuuri said it was doom in the guise of sparkling white teeth.

His expression must convey something of this because Viktor turns the wattage up by ten, throwing in guileless eyes for maximum appeal.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Yuuri is unimpressed. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!”

“I don’t have to! I know that look, it always means trouble!”

“Aaaahhh, my husband is so cruel! I can’t believe you think so poorly of me.”

Viktor wibbles. Yuuri rolls his eyes.

Viktor hiccups, whimpers and sniffles as his pretty crystal blues fill with tears.

Yuuri raises his brows, folds his arms, and lifts his chin imperiously, haughty and skeptical.

They stare at each other. The battle of wills is intense.

Yuuri loses.

“Fine! What?!” He barks, slaps his knee. Damnit!

Viktor thrusts the plastic wrapped costume at him, crocodile tears gone in a second. “Put it on!”

“What?!”

The thirty-four(34) year old man bounces on his heels like he’s a kid who’s just managed to evade bedtime by an hour. His husband is adorable, Yuuri reflects. Adorable and cruel.

“Wear it! Pleeeaase? I want to see you in it again!” The giddiness in the man’s expression fades but leaves in its place a heart-stopping warmth that’s full of love and want. Viktor’s eyes are shining with it.

Yuuri feels himself melt, just a little.

“I really want to see you wear it again.” The atmosphere is suddenly intimate. “Please Yuuri? One more time?”

“Viktor, I don’t know how I squeezed into that thing the first time, there’s no way it would fit me now.”

Yuuri really doesn’t.  
That costume had been designed and tailored to Viktor when he was a svelte youth of fifteen. Yuuri at twenty-four was not a svelte youth, at all. 

The fabric is stretchy sure, but it doesn’t have That much give, and there hadn’t been any time for alterations. Yuuri hadn’t even been able to wear spanx or something, it would’ve inhibited his range of motion too much.  
But it had fit like a glove. A tight glove that conformed to every bump and dip, but a glove all the same.

Viktor looks genuinely eager and doe-eyed, playfulness washed away by sincere desire.

“It’s stretchy! I…” Viktor pauses and looks down at the wardrobe bag, brows drawing together a bit, his smile loosening into something less eager and a lot more gentle. “If you really don’t want to I won’t push it, but if you wouldn’t mind it would mean a lot to me.”

Yuuri has lost. Spectacularly. Again. Bells ring and announcers agree while the referee counts down, blows the whistle and declares he’s out. Who could deny that kind of heartfelt compassion? 

Ducking forward he gives the older man a soft kiss. They hold it for a moment in a slow-burning passion, mouths moving lazily. Another kiss, a peck, another and Yuuri draws back with a sigh, taking the bag and rolling onto his feet.

Viktor looks a little shell shocked and dopey. He can’t help but give the man a shy, crooked grin.

“I-I’ll be right back.” Yuuri says, wrapping his arms around the bag and taking a step backward. “I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

Sexy costumes always required changing in the ensuite. If Yuuri had to do it in front of Viktor his soul would immediately depart to the spirit world from the absolute mortification. The privacy was important, let Yuuri gear himself up at his own pace, and Viktor understood.

Apparently it also added a little bit of surprise to the equation which, not what Yuuri had been thinking of but something his husband often took advantage of.

And even though the eros outfit was by no means new, Yuuri knew he’d need the sanctity of a shut door and an empty room.

He shut the door behind him and leaned his back against it with a sigh before looking down at the bag and unzipping it. He’d admit, he was a bit disappointed when the lycra-mesh combo didn’t just dissolve in his hands the moment it hit fresh air.

Setting the plastic on the counter, Yuuri held the outfit at arms length and pondered it, turning it back and forth.  
It looked so tiny.  
He looked down at himself. He remembered the romance in Viktor’s eyes.

“God damnit, Viktor.” Yuuri sighed again and set the costume down, tugging off his glasses and setting them on the counter.

Off came the cream cardigan knit, off came the light blue tee underneath. The jeans and belt hit the floor with a fwump-click combo and Yuuri briefly debated his underwear, absently unbuckling the handsome watch on his left wrist (another gift from Viktor) and toeing off his socks.

The boxer briefs weren’t going to give him weird VPLs. They stayed on.

“Moment of truth…” Yuuri breathed nervously as he grabbed the costume, memory finding the hidden zipper along the back with ease.

Down it went, smooth as butter. No going back now.

In went the left foot and then the right and Yuuri bit his lip as he gingerly pulled the old thing up. It came a bit easier than he’d expected, up his legs and hips at least, but he could feel the fabric strain and creak as he wrangled his arms into the gloved sleeves.

The man looked at his chest, looked at the mirror and sucked it in as much as he could, strained and groped at his back to pull up the zipper. There was a lot of yanking and convincing involved and he was getting a little red in the face.

There. Done. Yuuri released the breath he’d been holding, shoulders slumping with relief (hi new oxygen, how are you) and grimaced immediately at how tight the fabric felt around his upper half as his body relaxed into it.

Gingerly testing his range of motion and finding it to be quite small indeed, Yuuri shuffled over for his glasses, stuffed them onto his face, and steadfastly refused to look at his reflection. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, twisted and pushed. The seams creaked.

“I’m coming out,” Yuuri announced, just in case Viktor was like, an inch away from the door or something. “Viktor, this is really, really tight, it’s hard to move.”

Viktor came into view and promptly choked, eyes turning round, and hastily covered his mouth with a fist. Yuuri dropped his eyes, shuffled his feet and picked at his thumbnail.

“It doesn’t look stupid, does it?”

“God no.” 

Oh. He knew that breathy cadence. Knew it really well. Yuuri’s eyes flicked up, catching onto his husband’s as the man approached him in a stumble. 

“God no, Yuuri.” Viktor’s hands settled on his arms and fluttered upward in a needy caress. “Never. Never stupid.”

Ah the relief was sweet. Yuuri sighed, eyes dropping shut, and gathered Viktor’s long graceful hands in his own to push a kiss to the man’s knuckles.

“It-It really is tight though. Like, uncomfortably tight. Really, really tight. I’m kind of worried it’s gonna rip.” Yuuri’s voice was coming out a little strained. Was this how a corset felt? 

“Yeah it is.” Viktor agreed with a grin that looked just a little perverted and Yuuri felt his face and ears go hot.

Oh dear. Yuuri licked his lips, fingers squeezing at the ones he held as he felt the familiar stir of arousal beginning to goad and poke at his lower belly. His husband’s eyes watched the movement as if entranced.

“Well,” He said as he gave his shoulders a mild shimmy in an effort for comfort, dropping Viktor’s hands in favour of the man’s shoulders and hands stroking the sides of the man’s neck. “I’m glad you seem to like it?”

“Hell yeah I do.” 

The tension snapped and they were at each other in a mess of hands and tongues. Yuuri’s glasses pushed uncomfortably against the bridge of his nose and he broke away from the hot kiss to rip them off, throwing them somewhere then grabbing at Viktor’s face to pull him back in. The man came eagerly, his hands reaching around to grope at Yuuri’s ass and jerk at his hips to grind him forward.  
There was a gasp and Yuuri growled, clipping his teeth around Viktor’s bottom lip as he jammed his thigh between his husband’s legs and rubbed.

God he loved this man.

The mild difficulty Yuuri had breathing thanks to the tightness of the bodysuit was only compounded by the new activities, but it was actually kind of hot so who cared.

It got even hotter when his husband began to bend him backward between an arm and the weight of his (unfortunately taller and therefore given the advantage, damn Viktor) body. Trusting Viktor not to drop him instantly, Yuuri went with it, ripping his fingers through the older man’s soft, thick hair and happily ruining any vestige of sleek perfection. Viktor kept on pushing.

A leg hooked around the taller man’s waist in a bid for balance. He was nearly parallel with the floor now, the tingle of fright only serving to heighten the intensity and make Yuuri try even harder to shove his tongue down his husband’s throat.

Viktor broke away, licking his kissed red lips and running a hand up Yuuri’s front to his throat and applying pressure, dipping Yuuri even harder around the arm around his waist like the older man was trying to test his flexibility or something. Yuuri felt his skin tingle as the floor came into view.

But. Tight. The damn suit was too tight and now he was really having trouble. 

Yuuri’s breath came out in something of a strangled squeak, fingers tearing at the back of Viktor’s neck and shirt collar. Yuuri pressed against the pressure with a roll of his chest and shoulders, the motion an instinctive bid for freedom.

Two things happened then.

One, Yuuri could rather suddenly breathe properly again.

Two, the front of the costume apparently couldn’t handle anymore enthusiastic writhing and split with a ripping noise that was devastatingly loud.

He blinked at the floor, paralyzed by shock. The arousal left him all at once, instead replaced with mortified horror in a dizzying bout of emotional whiplash.

Viktor hadn’t moved an inch, seemingly just as stunned as him, and Yuuri pulled his hands away from his husband’s back to slap them over his face instead. He wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

“Oh my God.” Yuuri groaned, voice high with humiliation. “Oh my God, did that just happen? Oh my God.”

One hand remaining firm over his face he used the other to instead bat at the hand on his throat. It pulled away obligingly and Yuuri straightened quickly, stumbling out of Viktor’s embrace. He wrapped his arms around his chest and groaned hard as he felt the fabric give even further.

Yuuri shuddered, sniffed, bit his bottom lip and tried very hard not to cry. “I told you it wouldn’t fit…”

He’d torn the fucking eros costume.  
The costume which had cost thousands of rubles, should’ve been on display in a museum because it had so much history, the one Viktor had owned since he was fifteen, had been ruined.

The mesh had been the worst offender, the jagged design of the costume abetting a very long rip right across. The lycra hadn’t really survived well either though, and the end result was a gaping exposure of man boob in an outfit that was practically an antique.

He pulled his shoulders in, growled as another stitch went, and pushed the heel of his palm deep into his left eye. And then there were tears. Awesome.

All he’d wanted was his stupid mug.

Viktor finally, finally seemed to wake up from whatever fugue he’d fallen into and was on him, fingers running through the hair that Yuuri thought he should really get cut already, a broad palm heating his back and pulling him in.

He was angry at Viktor. He was angry at himself but Viktor had been the one to start this whole mess so Yuuri was very, very angry at Viktor specifically. It didn’t stop him from pushing his head into the man’s shoulder as he shivered and shook with repressed sobs though.

In their first year of knowing each other, Viktor hadn’t really known how to go about comforting a person who broke down on him. Yuuri hypothesized that the man had probably just booked it the moment tears started to happen, before they’d met.  
He still kind of didn’t but he had a better idea of it six years later. The hand patting at his back was awkward and heavy and the man’s voice was a babble of “Yuuri, no” and “Please stop crying” and “You’re okay it’s okay” and “Don’t cry, please, you know how bad I am at this”.

The last one earned Viktor a small punch to his shoulder. Rude. Yuuri sobbed.

“Okay, I deserved that but Yuuri, Yuuri please look at me, come on, let me see you.” The hand on his head moved to push at his jaw, encouraging him to lift his face.

Yuuri allowed it and sniffled, treating his husband to a very wet glower.

“This is all your fault!” He accused in a last ditch effort to save his pride.

Viktor blinked, sighed and rubbed at his cheek with a thumb before swooping in. Yuuri dodged the man’s mouth, ducking his head away. He was not in the mood.

His husband apparently didn’t care much, kissed Yuuri’s cheek instead and dragged a line of tender pecks up the side of his face onto his forehead. Yuuri growled and started to squirm, reaching up to push away the offending face. “No, I’m angry at you!”

Viktor just grabbed his gloved hand and began to spread butterfly kisses down his palm to his wrist and back up to his fingers.

Okay. That was cute.

Stupid Viktor.

Feeling very petulant, Yuuri gave up his struggling in favour of standing motionless in the older man’s arms, unpliant to the max as Viktor turned to smooch his face again.  
Cheeks, forehead, the tip of his nose once, twice, three times and Yuuri was resisting a smile now, damn everything.

Viktor noticed the small twitch in his lips and grinned, wide and ecstatic.

And then he was grabbing Yuuri’s pecs and ducking in to blow a noisy raspberry into the exposed flesh of his chest.

Yuuri immediately shrieked and jerked, began to laugh before he could even think not to. His husband’s grip transferred to his waist in a hug and he could feel the man’s smile against his skin before the other blew in more wet sloppy noises and Yuuri chortled hard, squirming for an entirely other reason now and batting at the silver head, a broad shoulder.

“Viktor-Viktor stop, oh my god! Ahck!” He wheezed and squealed, let out a very ungraceful cackle and snort because damn it all that tickled and it was completely ridiculous and it sounded just Awful and Viktor was awful, the absolute worst and Yuuri hated him.

The arms around his waist began to sway him lightly and thank the heavens Viktor had stopped and was joining in on the laughter instead in a fit of helpless giggling. Wrapping his arms about the man’s shoulders, fingers finding a lock of kittensoft hair, Yuuri bent to push his nose into the pleasant smell of Viktor’s scalp to muffle his snickering.

“You-!” Yuuri gasped as soon as he had enough air, drawing his hands up the other’s neck to gently clasp either side of his head. His thumbs massaged light circles into the spaces behind his husband’s ears. “I can’t believe you! You are such a dork!”

When Viktor finally emerged from the now slightly damp valley between Yuuri’s pecs, he was red faced and dimple cheeked, beaming massively and panting ever so faintly.

“Your dork. Can I kiss you now?” The question was so stupidly earnest and it melted Yuuri’s heart.

“Oh, just come here.” Yuuri muttered and used the grip he already had on Viktor’s head to pull the man up and into a waiting mouth. Viktor straightened obligingly.

“I can’t believe you,” Yuuri muttered upon drawing back and leaning in just as promptly for another. “Cannot believe you. You’re insufferable.”

Okay. He’d calmed down now. Viktor’s arms were still an octopus tight grip around his waist, his forehead a warm and wonderful touch against Yuuri’s own. Yuuri returned the hug, arms sliding around Viktor’s mid-back.

“I’m...Are you okay now?” The question as a touch hesitant, a little quiet. Yuuri sighed.

“Yeah.” He bit at his bottom lip. “Yeah I’m good. Are you?”

Another peck of lips on the tip of his nose. Viktor looked like a bewildered puppy. “Yeah but, I’m confused though, I...why?”

“Why what?” Yuuri muttered, pretend-ignorant, then shut his eyes with a shake of his head. “It’s...you probably wouldn’t understand. It’s embarrassing enough to try on stuff that doesn’t fit but for it to just...break because you’re too big? It’s humiliating and I felt mortified.”

Viktor still didn’t quite seem to understand. “But it was sexy as hell?”

Wait, what.

“Wait, what.”

His husband snorted and sighed at the ceiling, looking exasperated as if he had any right to be.  
“Even after all these years you still don’t get it. That’s the most infuriating thing about you, Yuuri.”  
What.  
Viktor dropped a kiss against his forehead, eyes intent as he smoothed back thick black bangs. “You just don’t understand how-how gorgeous you are. It drives me nuts.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything at all. Viktor took it as an opportunity to talk more. He was very good at that.

“You, Yuuri Katsuki, are a sexy sexy beast whether you believe it or not.” A finger jabbed his chest. “And watching you bust out of that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Seriously.”

The poking finger moved to toy at one of Yuuri’s nipples and he squeaked again in a very unmanly manner, watching it for a second before returning Viktor’s gaze.

“...I-but-...your costume?”

“Your costume.” His husband corrected. “Our costume. Our very old, worn at the seams costume that was ripping without you. We don’t need it, nobody else needs it, WE can do whatever we want to it.”

Viktor seemed to ponder him for a second, reached up to click fingernail against one of the larger crystals winding up Yuuri’s shoulder. He smirked.

“So if I want to do this-” The shiny bit of high quality plastic was ripped off and wagged in his face. His husband’s smirk got wider and he tapped it against Yuuri’s nose. “I can.”

Yeah. Okay. Yuuri kind of got it now.  
His gaze leaned over to the rip where the shiny bit of hard plastic used to be. His mouth felt suddenly really quite dry and his ears were quite hot. Viktor was good at that too, turning Yuuri’s mouth and throat into Death Valley.

The brunet blinked a couple of times at his shoulder before returning his gaze to the very smug looking asshole that was the love of his life who seemed to be waiting patiently for Yuuri’s verdict.

“So you mean,” Yuuri began, his index finger scratching at one of the buttons of Viktor’s shirt. He definitely got it now and pushed at his husband’s chest, stepped back.  
“If I wanted to do this, I could?”

The half skirt tore like butter. Yuuri flicked it nonchalantly at his husband’s face and felt very satisfied as Viktor’s throat bobbed in a probably also very dry swallow. The man’s eyes followed the flutter of the two toned fabric to the ground.

“Yeah.” Viktor’s voice sounded breathless and just a little tight. “Like that.”

A very loud whine broke the moment so hard that Yuuri’s confusion smacked him so hard he was dizzy from it.

What the hell? 

As one, his and Viktor’s eyes turned toward the source to find Nutmeg staring at them, head cocked, her food dish dangling from her mouth.

From the looks of her, she’d probably been trying to get their attention for a while and they’d just been too wrapped up in each other to notice. Yuuri folded his arms and facepalmed, muttering several choice words under his breath. All this cockblocking one way or another was beginning to blue his balls.

“Uh-” Yuuri peeked through his fingers to watch Viktor’s eyes whip back and forth between the pup and him. “-Uhm, uh…”

His husband grabbed his shoulders and his expression was very intent indeed. 

“I will be Right Back. Don’t. Do. Anything.” 

Viktor nodded, squeezed Yuuri’s shoulders, then began to waddle a little awkwardly for the door, probably very grateful for the fluffy monstrosity that was his house coat which hid a certain something from Nutmeg’s innocent eyes. He also was giving the Shepherd a few choice words in a tone usually reserved for babies.

Oblivious, Nutmeg jumped about happily, her tail a mighty non-aerial helicopter. Yuuri watched, then listened as the click of her claws faded toward the kitchen alongside his husband’s grumbling.

Yuuri felt...somehow a little bereft. He fidgeted awkwardly, spinning his ring in nervous habit, and glanced toward the bathroom door.

He ambled back over, finding that the poor state of the costume was making motion quite a bit easier, and slipped inside. Briefly Yuuri thought of shutting the door but in the end ignored it as he situated himself in front of the mirror.

Well, his hair was a mess, a good chunk of it having come free from the ponytail. And his reflection was a little fuzzy on account of his glasses being...somewhere, but.

Well, the eros costume was indeed very ruined and Yuuri briefly wondered if this was what Powerwoman felt like.  
Sure the hole on his chest was rather a bit more ragged but no, yeah, it was definitely a boob window.  
The man tilted his head and shifted to the side, puffing out the somewhat out of focus vision that was his chest, and considered himself.

Okay, maybe if he pretended that wasn’t actually him in the mirror, he might be-

Nah, he was deluding himself. That was hot, this was hot and Yuuri foresaw a lot more destroyed shirts in their future because honestly the thought of tearing Viktor’s clothes off and Viktor returning the favour made him a little giddy.

Yuuri turned the tap and bent down to splash warm water into the mess that was his face and scrubbed at it. He drew the water back through his hair and sighed, feeling just a little fresher.

Turning the water off the man lifted his head, blinking in mild surprise because another reflection had joined his in the mirror. Viktor cocked his head, his smile soft and sweet, and offered Yuuri a towel which he took gratefully.

“Better?”

“Mhm.” His response was a bit muffled by fluffiness but Yuuri was confident he’d gotten it across. Emerging from the towel he found his glasses waiting for him, and took them with no small amount of relief.

“Thank you.” Viktor had been perfectly visible before given his proximity, but he still became a bit crisper and easier to see. That was just the magic of corrective lenses.

His husband’s shoulders rose in a mild shrug, brows tilting in such a way that turned his expression a bit more boyish. “I figured you’d yell at me if we broke them trying to get freaky again.”

Number 1 reason Yuuri was glad to have them back on his face, honestly. He nodded in agreement.

“I would’ve. And there’s been enough of that for one day, I think.” Adjusting the blue frames, Yuuri set a hand on a cocked hip and considered the man in front of him.

“So, Nutmeg has dinner?” Viktor nodded. “Did you close the door this time?” Another slightly more excited nod.

Yuuri nodded as well and strode passed his husband with a pat to the man’s shoulder. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

There was a triumphant “Yes!” and the man scrambled to catch up to him.  
This ended with Viktor sweeping Yuuri up and crossing the distance to the bed with hasty excitement. 

Yuuri hit the fluff that was said bed a brief moment later, grinning widely and his husband (and that was still kind of hard to believe sometimes, how had he ever gotten so lucky?) returned the expression, eagerly crawling onto Yuuri’s hips and not protesting in the least when Yuuri grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down into another mouth watering makeout session.

Yuuri never did end up finding the mug but all things considered?

Well, he was pretty okay with that.

(At least until he discovered the reason he’d been unable to find said mug was that it was in pieces in the garbage bin. The ensuing blow out made Viktor cry and somehow ended up with Yuuri screwing him against the counter for an unexpected second round. 

Yuuri had no idea how Viktor always managed to distract him like this. The man really was an unbelievable asshole.)


	2. Go down and take me up to heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this has actually been tentatively finished for a while now? i always kept on thinking i was gonna go back and rewrite the entire kaboodle but meeeeeeeh  
> so u kno how i said last chapter was intended to be a hardcore smutfest?  
> well, i tried again~  
> i hope you enjoyyyy (♡´❍`♡)*✧ ✰ ｡*

Let it be known that Viktor is a man of many talents.

He’s smart, he’s gorgeous, he’s well in the money largely by his own doing and he’s somehow managed to net a beautiful, full-hearted husband who thinks the sun shines out of Viktor’s ass and is so very, very eager to please. 

That’s not counting the plethora of medals in his collection, the majority of which are gold.

He’s also basically retired at thirty-four years of age. In summary, Viktor Nikiforov is a man who is hashtag blessed and anybody would drool for a day of his life, he’s certain. Maybe as some sort of reality show nonsensery, but that won’t happen because Viktor is not very good at sharing his favourite things.

What he doesn’t want to share most is his gorgeous sexpot kind-of-a-headcase husband. No, Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki is his, so sayeth the rings on their fingers.   
It’s a two-way street but that’s besides the point.

Nobody aside from Viktor is getting their hands on Yuuri, not if Viktor has anything to say about it. He wouldn’t call this jealousy or possessiveness per-se, more an urge to protect what he holds dear to his heart. Yuuri is his most favourite person in the entire world after all.

(Yurio never fails to call his bullshit each and every time. The kid is still hilarious.)

It’s this urge to make their union as blatantly obvious as possible that leads Viktor into some particularly poor spending habits. But he has wads of cash and a hubby to spoil.

Some might call Yuuri a sugar baby. Those same people would likely refer to Viktor as a sugar daddy.

Viktor is perfectly alright with this. 

Yuuri insists on working though, instead of letting Viktor spoil him to death every day, and while it’s a little disappointing it also gives Viktor a few hours to do maintenance on the sanity his husband drains from him on a daily basis. It’s not the bad kind of insanity but it’s a kind of insanity all the same.

Crazy in love was apt. Beyonce never ceased to disappoint.

Sometimes though, Viktor discovers he needs to actually throw away his money, and even Yuuri’s. Such as when he’d found Yuuri weighing himself for the third time in a single day, or when said husband had begun to obsessively measure himself.

Viktor doesn’t know what it’s like to be bullied for being ‘fat and ugly’ ( which should have been impossible, Yuuri’s never ugly. People are just dumb). No, he’d caught hell over other matters so it’s difficult to understand the younger man’s singular preoccupation with his weight and the thickness of his waistline.

He’s not sure that it would be correct to call whatever this is an ‘eating disorder’. Viktor has done a significant amount of research, most of it via Google, but also a couple phone calls and a doctor visit, and he remains hesitant. 

Well. Hesitant to say it directly to Yuuri’s face anyways. 

To Viktor it doesn’t matter. Yuuri is sexy when he’s full of softness and plush, gentle curves.   
He’s sexy when he’s long and full of clean, lean lines.  
He’s sexy when he’s packed full of the masculine contour of hard muscle.   
Viktor will take his Yuuri-meal any way he can get it. He’s not picky and his husband is beautiful.

He loves Yuuri. Always and forever.

Viktor’s attraction and lust for his husband is a never-ending well of outpouring passion. Sometimes he can’t control himself. 

Like right now.

Now, a while ago when they’d still been back in Russia, Viktor and Yuuri had found their old, mutual figure skating costume. Seeing it had given Viktor ideas immediately and he’d somehow managed to get Yuuri to try it on for him again.

(Let it be said that while Viktor is very good at getting Yuuri to go along with whatever new crazy thing that’s caught his interest, if Yuuri genuinely doesn’t want to do something he won’t. He’s very good at putting his foot down in fact. Sometimes on some very pleasant areas. Viktor will never look at high heels the same way again.)

The sight he’d been treated to had been better than Viktor expected and he’d had to get his hands on his younger husband immediately. Somehow this had ended up in the front of the old eros costume splitting where it had been pulled tightest, right across the wonderful expanse of Yuuri’s supple, thick chest.

Viktor had never seen anything more ridiculously arousing than his husband’s pecs popping out of fabric torn because it just couldn’t keep up with everything that was Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki. Bent over his arm, the heat of one thigh around Viktor’s waist and the costume just ripping to give Viktor the surprise reveal of rosey, muscular man-boob had stolen all wit from his brain and swept it under the carpet.

It was too much, and had gone straight into the little bank of images he kept in his brain in case he and Yuuri were apart for whatever reason and he needed to indulge in some self-care. Freak outs aside, he’d managed to convey this to his husband. It had resulted in a very fun time.  
Apparently Yuuri had taken it rather to heart.

Back to the present. Yuuri is kneeling over him, the look in his eyes one of lusty mischief, hair a mess of bedhead-tousled flips and waves around his face and shoulders. He’s stunning.

He’s also wearing a very interesting sweater.

A sweater with a very wonderful split in the chest area. What some would call a boob window in fact.

Yes. Yuuri is wearing a clingy blue sweater with a boob window and not much else but long socks and a stunning set of six inch spiked heels that Viktor remembers buying for Yuuri a few days ago. He’s not sure if there’s underwear involved in this equation of sexy friskiness, but judging by the feeling of the man in his lap, there probably isn’t.

The keyhole has cat ears. It is expansive and teasing, and above it is more sweater that culminates in a tall collar and sleeves that are just a little too long, leaving only Yuuri’s fingers just peeking out.

Viktor is riveted.

It’s even better outside of tumblr.

The man is a little drunk. Viktor can taste the sweet grapes of wine in his lover’s mouth when they kiss, deep, sensual and full of painfully hot tongues. Apparently Yuuri had been having a little party without him. The beautiful bastard.

Yuuri’s fingers twine through his own and pull them up and while it’s a nice sensation Viktor’s a bit busy kissing his husband silly to notice what’s going on with them. What ends up happening is at once surprising and thrilling.

There had been a very handsome set of leather lined cuffs hidden under the pillows and blankets apparently. Viktor doesn’t realize what’s happened until Yuuri allows him to notice, pulling back with a catty smile. Viktor finally catches on that he’s strapped in solid to the headboard. 

He blinks up at his trapped hands and then turns an accusatory look at Yuuri with a pout.

“You tricked me!”

“Heh.”

His lover’s lips are pretty and slick and there’s a hint of drool on the side of Yuuri’s smirk, and when he licks it up Viktor just about dies.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Viktor tilts his head accordingly as Yuuri reaches around his head to gather up his long hair, gingerly tying it into a bun. No uncomfortable accidental hair pulling to break the mood, that’s a relief. “But what’s brought this on?”

“Well,” Yuuri begins and sits back to survey Viktor with all the regality of a queen. His glasses flash a little threateningly as they slip down his nose. “I know you’re bad with dates so I figured I’d remind you now that we have a very important day coming up.”

Viktor blinks trying to remember which ‘very important day’ is apparently both nearing, and is special enough to warrant this kind of treatment. Yuuri’s right, he is bad with dates, but when Viktor doesn’t seem to get it right away the younger man still looks very unimpressed.

“Our anniversary, Viktor.” Yuuri’s arms fold across his chest and it does wonderful things to the exposè that is his cleavage. “The anniversary of our marriage? You know, our seventh year together united in holy matrimony? The day we got hitched, the ol’ ball and chain, the day when I got to change my name and it was all very expensive? That one?”

Viktor immediately feels the oops. Yeah that was coming up wasn’t it? He’d been so busy talking with new wealth managers and his stock brokers that he’d kind of…

“It’s a good thing you’re reminding me now then, isn’t it!” Viktor laughs, a little sheepish.

Yuuri is hot even when he rolls his eyes and- Oh. Is he wearing make up? Viktor has no idea how he’d missed the smoke of eyeshadow and the wing of eyeliner but to be fair, he’d been busy looking at other things. Like Yuuri’s boobs. Viktor’s eyes flick back down toward said rolls of fleshy muscle and kind of wants to cry. Yuuri is just too good to him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” The younger man tilts his head down at Viktor and leers with all the power of his eros, leaning in slowly. “I’m just going to need to make sure you’ve been very Thoroughly reminded.”

The brunet’s teeth latch onto Viktor’s bottom lip in a mild order for obedience, his breath a hot wash across suddenly heated skin, and then Yuuri is pulling back to leave the pale haired man momentarily bereft and confused but he can’t complain too hard because the other is busily unzipping Viktor’s jeans. Hefting his hips to help Yuuri strip him, Viktor can’t help but bite his bottom lip and grin wide.

“May I ask how you’re planning on reminding me?” Viktor bats his lashes.

Yuuri pulls down pants and underwear in one fell swoop, throwing them carelessly over his shoulder with a cool shrug. He seems to ponder Viktor’s tee for a moment, glances at the cuffs, decides it’s not worth it.

“You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

How had it come to this? How had Viktor’s cute virginal boyfriend turned into this sex hungry machine of a man that was rapidly reducing Viktor’s brain to mush? He’s not sure. He also feels he shouldn’t complain about this. 

A quick dive into their bedside table produces a lubricant that tastes pleasantly like chocolate and Yuuri wastes no time in squeezing a generous dollop onto one palm, warming it with a quick rub between his hands while he gives Viktor a considering look.

Viktor’s grin goes wider and more excited as the younger man settles next to his legs and takes him in hand, beginning to stroke languidly. Their lips must be magnetized because they’re kissing again, a slow and sensual open mouthed mess and Viktor can feel himself turning to (very hard) putty in his husband’s hands.

He wants to give Yuuri the world, the moon and the stars. Viktor would do anything for this gorgeous hunk of a man that he’s so fortunate to have tricked into marriage. Yuuri is amazing and Viktor can never formulate how in the world he got so lucky but he’ll never, ever look this gift horse in the mouth.

His hands pull at the nearly forgotten cuffs and he mutters a huff of frustration. Yuuri just chuckles as he pulls back, turning to watch the slick, slowly hardening member in his hand.

“Yuuriiii,” He whines, rattling at the wicked chains. “Come on, let me touch you.”

“Nah.” Yuuri’s expression is so delightfully impish, his eyes and teeth a dazzling twinkle in the low light. “You’re just gonna have to sit back and enjoy.”

His hand is beginning to hasten pace now, thumb a teasing too-light massage over the head and Viktor huffs another short breath. This boy is a monster, he thinks as the grip switches to a wristy twist, pulling a groan out of Viktor that feels like it’s come straight up from his toes.

It’s just a handjob, Viktor thinks to himself with some incredulity. It’s just a handjob but Yuuri’s already got him aching and desperate.

“I think I like you more like this,” Yuuri’s voice is a mix of saccharine and husk, and Viktor tingles a bit.   
The younger man’s hand drops Viktor’s length against his belly and instead drags a single teasing finger up the line between his abs. It leaves behind a shiny trail, and his breath stutters a bit in his chest.

“Pliant,” Viktor shivers as his torso is delicately scratched. “Pretty,” The hand was sweeping over his chest now. “And perfectly at my mercy.”

Viktor wouldn’t deny it. When the man pulled lightly at his nipple through his shirt, he whimpered. Playing with the small nub leisurely, Yuuri gave Viktor a look that was positively smug.  
Viktor glared.

“Tease.” He harrumphed, shimmied his hips a bit because there was nothing on his cock now and now that he was full hard it was the goddamn worst. “Devil. Seductress.”

The other man chuckled, looking impossibly fond as he gave Viktor’s nose a quick tap.

“You love me.” Yuuri’s smile was wide.

Viktor admired for a second the width of Yuuri’s chest to the narrowness of his waist, the cat eared peephole in the wonderfully tight fabric giving Viktor a glorious sight indeed.  
The knee high socks and louboutins, the makeup, the dazzle of wino on Yuuri’s breath. Clearly his husband had been nervous but wanting to treat Viktor to a night of the special variety. The very very sexy special variety.

It wasn’t very often Yuuri took the lead in specifically-adventurous playing, rarer still that the shy man started it at all. When Yuuri initiates it’s skin, lube and condoms only, hard and quick or sensual and slow but not really pulling out any tricks or toys to make things ‘interesting’.

Viktor sighed.

“I dooo. But you’re still killing me here Yuuri, come on!”

“Aw, poor dear.” His husband just cooed and gave Viktor’s cheek a pat.

Viktor gave Yuuri an unimpressed look before blinking and watching in curiosity as the man turned to dig into one of his stockinggs. The pretty fingers withdraw and quite suddenly, Viktor’s mouth is very promptly dry.

Yuuri shook the cock ring at him and quirked a brow.

“Do you want?”

Viktor nodded rapidly, making his husband grin all the wider. 

“How do you want it?”

Said ring was one of their new purchases, a marvelously stretchy thing which, while just a very simple band, made for some pretty great versatility. Viktor’s brain was blanking out on him so Yuuri apparently decides to take it further.

“Do you want it around here?” Yuuri asked in a breathy tone that did weird things to Viktor’s belly, reaching out with his free hand to draw a teasing line just under his cockhead. “Or, here?” Viktor shivered a little bit as Yuuri stroked the base of him, then breathed out a soft sigh as the man’s hand stretched to touch the underside of Viktor’s sack. “Or here?”

“Uhm...uh…” Choices, choices. It was really hard to think when Yuuri was looking at him like that, when Yuuri Looked like that. It didn’t help that the man was fondling his sack now either, lubed hand a pretty pleasant sensation if he said so himself.

Viktor finally swallowed, hips lifting a bit into his husband’s hand, and looked up at the man.

“Uh...the last one?”

“Ooouuu…” The resulting noise and look made Viktor think he had made the Very Correct decision because Yuuri looked absolutely thrilled in a way that wouldn’t look too out of place on a centerfold spread. “Good choice.”

Quite flushed himself, Yuuri looked pretty excited now, his tongue laving his lips and peeking out the side and his eyes pupils blown open so wide it made Viktor feel a flash of pride. 

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah.” Viktor managed to squeak. He was pretty proud of that too.

Yuuri stretched the thick band between his thumbs, slipping it down and being oh so careful not to catch any stray hairs when he reached the base. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his balls manhandled gingerly and didn’t bother one bit to stifle his loud groan when the ring clamped down.

“You good?” Yuuri’s breath was just as shaky and when Viktor’s eyes opened again the man was gazing up at him in concern. Very red faced and lusty concern but concern all the same.

It was so fucking tight. The pressure was incredible, almost overwhelming but Viktor nodded because it was also Amazing.

“I’m good.” Viktor’s response was a breathless one and he was sure that his face was pure adoration as he regarded the younger man. “I’m good.”

“Ah. Good.” Yuuri swallowed and breathed a shivery sigh, eyes burning holes into Viktor’s lower half.

“Fuck me that looks good…” The brunet licked his lips again and looked around rapidly for a moment before making a quick scramble for his cellphone once he’d spotted it.

Hastily wiping his fingers free of lube, Yuuri unlocked the screen and, Viktor knew, quickly found his way to the camera. When his husband looked at him for permission, Viktor grinned.  
It was impossible not to preen a bit or not to feel smug because Yuuri’s grin was downright perverted, red lipped and red cheeked and lusty eyed, one hand lifting to his cheek as if to say ‘my oh my what a delicious meal’ as the shutter clicked. 

Viktor knew he looked good but it was hard not to feel like a God when his normally conservative boyfriend got so loose with his inhibitions like this. 

“You like that?” He couldn’t help but ask, fingers reaching up to wind into the chains connecting his wrists to the headboard.

“Mhm.” Was Yuuri’s completely unshy response.

And then the brunet was tossing away his phone and bending over and Viktor was blessed with the sight and sensation of perfect red lips wrapping around his dick and sinking down hard. Gritting his teeth around a loud curse, unable to restrain the mild buck of his hips, Viktor stared.

This man was going to ruin him, he thought as Yuuri nosed at his pubic hair, pushing his own dark locks behind the shell of one perfect and adorable red ear. Viktor wanted to bite it.

“Fuck, Yuuri…!”

He tugged at the chains hard as the man swallowed around him, cheeks sucking into the lewdest vacuum Viktor had ever seen.

Now let it be said that while Yuuri had come into their relationship a virgin, that did not mean that the man had necessarily come into it unexperienced. It shouldn’t have surprised Viktor one bit that his lover had a massive oral fixation, given Yuuri’s tendency to comfort eat with the best of them, but when Yuuri had shown Viktor his little toy stash and embarrassedly confessed that he loved having his mouth stuffed while he went to town on himself-

Well.

And Viktor had been reaping the rewards of that fixation for years now. He’d gotten blown by a pretty decent handful of people before he and Yuuri had gotten together but Yuuri, oh Yuuri’s blowjobs were Viktor’s favourite thing under the sun.

The pressure was corset tight and Viktor moaned loudly through his grit teeth, toes curling into the bedspread and thrusting without thought into his husband’s mouth.

Yuuri could take it. And if he didn’t want Viktor to, well, Yuuri wasn’t the one cuffed to the bed at present and could easily stop him.

The man’s head lifted, rewarding Viktor with a dewy eyed sideways look through glasses that had had gone crooked, hanging onto the tip of his nose, and an unabashed slurp. One hand bracing itself on Viktor’s thigh Yuuri closed his eyes and focused instead entirely on electrifying his husband with every move in his (by now significantly large) repertoire.

Yuuri was not a messy eater.

He was a very messy head giver though. Saliva dribbled down his chin, sizzling against Viktor’s flesh. His tongue peeked out from his bottom lip, an amazing embrace if there ever was one, and even though the slide of Viktor’s cock into his throat wasn’t all that difficult, Yuuri’s eyes got wet.

And Yuuri looked so blissful as he devoured Viktor’s girth, as though he’d just been served the most delicious pork cutlet bowl heaven had ever created and it was just-

Viktor was going insane. Between the cock ring and the divinity that was his husband’s mouth he was being driven insane. He wants to grab Yuuri’s head and just facefuck him but damn the man Yuuri must have thought of that because the cuffs holding Viktor captive are unrelenting. It gets no better when Yuuri begins to tease at his behind, nudging and then fingering that wonderful intimate pucker with lube slicked fingers and playing with Viktor as though Viktor were his favourite toy.

By the time Yuuri is pulling off of Viktor’s dick, Viktor is a whiny, sweaty and flushed mess. Viktor has no shame in this. Why should he, Yuuri makes him feel so good and he deserves to know that.

He thinks if he’d been able to cum he would’ve shot across his husband’s cute glasses the moment Yuuri pulled off him but nope. There’s only an unsatisfying dribble of precum for Yuuri to lap at and a mind-boggling stranglehold on his cock and balls.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whines breathlessly, pleadingly as he lifts his hips into the hand that’s taken the place of Yuuri’s mouth. “Yuuri please, at least let me go, let me touch you.”

The slightly damp tent nudging at the front of the mid thigh sweater is incredible to see, especially in conjunction with Yuuri’s face because the smaller man looks just as wrecked as Viktor feels only from sucking dick. Yuuri is amazing. Absolutely amazing.

“Okay, okay…” The man whispers, nodding dazedly and voice a bit rough and shifts to lean over Viktor to struggle at the leather cuffs. The motion drags the sinful sweater up just enough for the fat girth that is Yuuri’s dick to spring loose and the sight of it bobbing erect into the air makes Viktor’s heart skip a little.

“What are we…” Viktor asks as he watches one buckle finally come free.

Yuuri’s gone into this with a plan after all and Viktor doesn’t want to wreck it just because he got a little excited.

Okay, a lot excited.

“You’re gonna fuck me and make me cum until I say you’re allowed to stop.” Is the response that burns holes into Viktor’s brain. “And then if you’ve been good I’ll let you finish.”

Yuuri is in the position they started in, straddling Viktor’s lower stomach and peering down at him through somewhat crooked and foggy glasses. He’s still a little breathless, his chest heaving with it and doing wonderful things to the tease that is the keyhole of his sweater.

“Okay?” Yuuri asks, the second cuff finally opening under his shaking grip.

He appreciates that about Yuuri, Viktor thinks. Every step of the way Yuuri asks permission and makes sure Viktor is good and enthusiastically ready. It’s not necessary, Viktor’s always ready to bump uglies with his husband in any way, shape or form, but it’s still adorable and sweet.

Yuuri is so, so eager to please. It’s one of the things Viktor loves about him.

“Okay. Okayokay.” Viktor nods rapidly and gets his arms under him, reaching for the lube with one hand and Yuuri with the other.

His hand finds purchase on the back of Yuuri’s neck and drags him into a clash of lips that’s more teeth than flesh, biting at the younger man’s mouth until they’re a bright cherry red.

“Do you need-”

Yuuri shakes his head. He really had gotten the party started without Viktor, the little shit.

More lubricant never hurt anybody though. While Viktor’s cock is a mess of saliva and chocolate flavoured stickiness it doesn’t make him hesitate to cover it further in the stuff with a fresh handful before his hand shifts through Yuuri’s legs, brushing over the plump underhand of his sack, and happily uses the remainder on the man’s hole.

His fingers glide in fantastically easy and in his lap, Yuuri shivers with a husky groan, his own hands busy pushing up the front of Viktor’s shirt to seek the heat of his skin.

Now, while Viktor loves it when Yuuri rides him and Yuuri loves it too (it’s one of his favourite positions actually), Yuuri is also wearing pretty heels that Viktor wants a good view of.

Yuuri looks pretty startled when his back hits the bed, blinking up at him through very skewed now glasses with a soft gasp. His expression gets no less surprised when Viktor manhandles the man until it’s Yuuri’s turn to be shackled to their headboard.

“Oh-hey, what…” Yuuri’s pliant limbs are all the permission Viktor needs, the man rolling with Viktor’s grabbing without hesitation.

It’s lovely that Yuuri trusts Viktor so very much.

Adjustable straps are a blessing, he thinks with a grin as he pats one cuffed ankle then looks down at his husband.

“Good?”

The sight is good if nothing else. Yuuri’s flexibility is one of Viktor’s favourite things to play with. Bent in two with his back bunched up against the pillows, his dick hanging in his face and the wonderful wide spread of his ass in the air, Yuuri looks delectable.

Even better with the heels. Viktor pushes a kiss to one ankle, following a line to the white of the shoe, the red of the underside. He wants to take his time.

He really, really wants to take his time.

But there’s a cockring that’s driving him crazy and while Viktor can take it off, that would just be rude.

Yuuri, not looking strained by the position in the least, reaches in to adjust his glasses and nods.

Viktor doesn’t give Yuuri a moment more, one hand finding the top of the headboard and the other pushing his maddeningly swollen length home.  
The groan and look of shock that wipe away the anticipation as Viktor pushes in hilt deep in one thrust are incredibly satisfying. So is the grunt that pops out of Yuuri’s lips a second later when Viktor starts up a pace that leaves his core burning and is going to ensure that his devilish husband isn’t going to be able to walk straight tomorrow.

It’s amazing. Between the vice tight stranglehold of the cockring and the welcoming clench that’s Yuuri’s hole, Viktor finds himself rapidly heading toward a very frustrated kind of euphoria. His body is shot through with starbursts of sensation that make his toes curl and his grip on the headboard whiteknuckle and he’s very glad it’s a thick headboard because the back of it is knocking frantically against the wall.

Yuuri is pretty frantic himself. He’s falling apart at the seams, his body straining to move into the frenetic thrusting but completely unable to and it’s making him wail and huff, his hands groping for purchase first at the sheets and then reaching through to spread eagle of his legs for Viktor instead.

The poor kid can’t quite reach and the look of pure frustration that flashes across Yuuri’s moistened, scarlet face is hilarious and fills Viktor with vindication. Viktor snickers through the buzzing in his everything, grinds his foot deeper into the bed and plows harder into his husband with a groan and a curse.

The loose bun is coming loose, he briefly notices but doesn’t really care because his head is going white, body chasing the satisfaction of an orgasm made incredibly difficult to achieve and reducing Viktor into a mindless mess.

His nails creak into the wood of the headboard, hands trembling and palms wet with the sweat that bathes him. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.

Yuuri’s stopped in his struggle to meet Viktor’s hips thrust for thrust and he’s busying himself instead with a furiously moving hand on his dick, his other fist shoved deep into his mouth in an effort to avoid disturbing their neighbours.

It’s cute but it’s not what Viktor wants, he wants to hear his husband when he takes the man apart. Sacrificing a bracing hand on the headboard he grabs the brunet’s wrist and drags it to the side, pinning it on the pillow next to his head.

The motion is apparently what causes Yuuri to snap just a bit.

The sensation of Yuuri’s body clamping down on him Hard drags a startled yell out of Viktor and it’s too much for the oversensitive flesh of his cock, he needs to pull out. Watching his husband shudder as he shoots his load onto his own chest is nice, but Viktor doesn’t need nice right now.

“Y-Yuuri-...” He whimpers, hips still rocking against the cleft of the other’s ass. “Please-!”

Yuuri can only muster a nod. It’s good enough. Viktor draws back on his haunches to look down and ease himself two handed out of the ring and the rush that surges through him once he’s finally free of the damned thing almost has him shooting his load right there.

There’s a better place to do that though.

Yuuri yells when Viktor pushes into him again an instant later, the snap of his hips immediate, rough and erratic. The man isn’t going to be able to walk straight for a week, Viktor decides with a barely clearer head.

It’s a lot of fumbling to get Yuuri’s ankles back out of the cuffs when he changes his mind on how exactly he wants him but soon enough Viktor is shoving two socked legs over one shoulder, arm wrapped tight to keep them there, his other hand bracing beside Yuuri’s head.

A hand just as sweaty as his snags out to grip the hair thats fallen out of the bun on the back of Viktor’s head, pulling for purchase and Viktor growls loudly, shifts his hand to Yuuri’s face instead and pushing the man’s head deep into the cushions in vengeance.

He’s a little overstimulated already. Adding pain play into the mix just isn’t fair.

Yuuri’s entire body quakes at that, his now muffled yelling shifting into a much breathier, whinier pitch as the hand that isn’t yanking at Viktor’s scalp shoots between his legs. The flutter and squeeze of velvety heat around him is just getting to be too much and Viktor can feel it now, the orgasm that’s been edged away from him for at least fifteen minutes by now.

If he doesn’t pull out now-

He doesn’t want to pull out now, and the result is Yuuri’s own fault for not equipping Viktor with a condom.

Viktor kind of whites out.

He’s back a second later, still quivering but collapsed across the small man beneath him, utterly boneless, spent and exhausted in the rush of a fantastic, tingling afterglow. His hips are still twitching a bit, his length still hard for now but too over sensitive to stimulation for much in the way of proper thrusting.

Catching his breath and realizing Yuuri’s hand is still jerking between them, Viktor pulls back just a few inches so he can see the brunet’s face.  
There’s drool, some tears and a lot of sweat that's gluing the other man’s hair to his flushed skin, glasses crooked and fogged, working mouth hanging open into the pillow.

Viktor wishes he could hang a picture of this on his wall, settles instead for trying to imprint the image into the backs of his eyes.   
And then the man’s body is clamping down on him again in a way that makes Viktor grunt with discomfort, the second orgasm taking Yuuri hard just a handful of seconds after the platinum haired man’s own.

They lay there, sticky, sweaty and shaking for a good couple minutes, catching their breath and just slowly coming down from the high of a really intense bout of fucking.

“...Shit…” Yuuri finally wheezes. 

Still breathing hard into his husband’s shoulder, Viktor nods in agreement.

“Are you...are you-oh fuck…” Yuuri’s tongue is loose, slurring a bit but the concern Viktor hears and just knowing the man well lets him know what the brunet’s trying to say.

He nods. Yeah he’s okay. Exhausted and about to pass out but okay.

Yuuri’s thighs shift on either side of Viktor’s waist and he’s not too sure how they got there but he understands the nonverbal cue all the same.  
He’s not moving though. If Yuuri wants up he’s gonna have to shove Viktor off himself.

Said shoving is nice and gentle, and Viktor watches through heavily lidded eyes as Yuuri carefully crawls to the edge of the bed and stands, stumbles to the bathroom like a shaky newborn fawn.  
Viktor doesn’t realize he falls asleep until he wakes up an hour later, rather a bit cleaner than he had been and the smell of dinner arousing not his dick, but his stomach’s interest. One jaw-cracking yawn later and the man ambles out of the bedroom a bit more naked than he remembers being as well, given he’d passed out still wearing a shirt and socks.

He finds Yuuri exactly where he expects to and happily slumps across the shorter man’s back, kissing his neck in greeting and wrapping his arms across the other’s shoulders.

“Hey.” Yuuri cranes his neck to smile at him. “You up for stroganoff?”

Viktor nods with a soft grunt, nuzzling his nose deeper into his husband’s neck.

“Good. You uh, kinda passed out on me there. Are you doing okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, no I’m fine. Great actually.” Viktor snickers a bit. “Why didn’t you fall asleep with me? We could’ve had a nice nap together…”

“After I finished cleaning us up I was a bit too awake so I just left you to it.” Yuuri shrugs, shifts his footing in a way that Viktor is pretty familiar with because he’s always sore after getting pounded like that too. 

“And then you decided to make us dinner? You’re so sweet.” Kissing the curve of Yuuri’s ear he straightens and pushes off the man.

His core and back are a bit sore but it’s probably taking Yuuri a bit more effort to stand right now so he shuffles the man into one of the kitchen chairs (padded for this very purpose) and takes over, though he’s mindful of spitting grease given his nudity.

“So ah, when exactly did you get that lovely sweater my dear?”

He can hear Yuuri blush when he speaks. 

“I bought it online a week ago, it just got in earlier today. You didn’t...mind did you?”

“The only thing I mind is that you’re not wearing it right now.” Viktor flicked a pout over his shoulder.

“Well...it uh, kinda needed to be washed.” Yuuri says in a disgustingly plain grey tee and a pair of boxers.

He’s still wearing the socks at least. Viktor huffs and lowers the heat, leaving the sauce to thicken and joining Yuuri at the table. 

“Well, I appreciate it. But uh, let’s limit that kind of play to once a month or so please? It was awesome but I don’t think I have the stamina to do it more often than that!” Viktor cajoles, reaching over the table for Yuuri’s hand.

The brunet grasps it with a chuckle and a sheepish grin. “Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that happened -thumbs up- awkward tenses all over the place, i am not good with those, but all the same i hope you enjoyed  
> disclaimer; i have no idea how cockrings work i just went by the description on the website said cockring was from  
> disclaimer 2; the breadth of my sex knowledge is completely theoretical so if this is silly to those of you who've done the do, i am sorry  
> disclaimer 3; go listen to anamanaguchi   
> disclaimer 4; like, right now  
> disclaimer 5; heres a link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTBSQKh8teE

**Author's Note:**

> Aid is basically done btw, it just needs revising now.


End file.
